In Sri Lanka, there are many types
Of Ice Cream vendors.
First, there is the omnipresent
Cargills and Elephant House
Vendors, that play some melody
Like “Fur Elise” to attract
Children and adults alike.
Still I miss the “Walls” vendors
That used to be, two decades back.
I guess I’m in no certain terms,
Attracted to what “Walls” symbolizes,
That day in Kandy, when I met
The woman of my dreams.
She, I, and everyone in our trip bus
Bought “Walls” ice cream
With a nutty covering and
Ice Cream in the middle. Aren’t
We all like an ice cream bar?
We are nutty on the outside
Gazing at the one, who becomes immeasurable
In love carats, and the sheer coldness
Of being a solitary island, taken
Away by the warmth of the surroundings.
We are all ice creams, many
Flavors defining us. What matters
At the end is not the marketable
Flavor, but how easy we are to melt, to thaw,
To move those glaciers in the heart,
What flows from heart to outside,
As the melted flow-through
Of undiluted kindness.
